


Thirteen Days

by PrinceDarcy



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Morality, Morally Ambiguous Character, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:55:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceDarcy/pseuds/PrinceDarcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Higuchi's death, with the Death Note in the task force's hands, the end of the Kira case seems in sight—and L is willing to go further than even Light had predicted to secure his victory.</p><p>Or: every action causes ripples without logical end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was 3 AM and Light couldn't sleep.

He allowed himself to toss and turn and feel sorry for himself for ten minutes before realizing, with no small amount of chagrin, that this was the exact time of night when he'd always found himself woken up by Ryuzaki tapping away on his keyboard right next to him. Apparently that was habit-forming over a matter of months, no matter how much he disliked it, and getting back his memories and generally returning to his old self didn't seem to have had any effect on that sort of thing.

Deciding that this, like many of his problems in life, was therefore entirely Ryuzaki's fault, Light headed downstairs to at least satisfy himself that he wasn't sleeping either.

A pair of wide black eyes were fixed on him the moment he was down the stairs. More surprisingly, they were peeking out above the top of the Death Note.

“Light-kun, I was thinking about waking you up... no, I was definitely going to do it. If you want coffee, Watari can bring some.” Apparently satisfied with the long look he'd given Light, Ryuzaki turned his gaze back towards the pages of the notebook, staring into it so intensely that it looked as if he intended to divine all its secrets with sheer force of will.

“...I'm fine, Ryuzaki.” It didn't seem like he was going to need caffeine to keep him awake, like it or not. Resisting the urge to rub sleep from his eyes—no way was he going to come off as more tired than the detective with his permanent dark circles, especially now that he'd been informed that he would have been awake at this hour even without his own idiotic reflexive habits—he sat himself on the couch opposite, eyes on Ryuzaki over the top of the notebook's cover.

“Aren't you going to ask me why I was going to wake you up?” Ryuzaki asked, the notebook dangling limply from one hand as he flipped the page with the other. Light could tell just by the sight of it that he was looking at the page with the torn corner again, no doubt wondering about what powers that little scrap of paper might hold... _Not this time, L. You aren't getting any answers there._

“You'll tell me when you want to tell me,” Light replied, a yawn slipping out before he could suppress it. Ryuzaki had already called Watari before Light even had the opportunity to object, and in a moment so brief that it still surprised him after months of this, the elderly man had entered the main room as quiet as a ghost, setting down a tray with two cups of black coffee, a bowl of sugar cubes, and a generous selection of creamers.

He was gone just as quickly, apparently aware without so much as a glance from his charge that his presence was not meant to be lingering.

“You're bothered by it too, aren't you?” Ryuzaki said, then, eyes flicking upwards.

Light looked him right in the eye when he took a sip of his coffee, not so much as a single granule of sugar in it. Delightfully, Ryuzaki actually furrowed his brows and looked away, as if he couldn't even bear to look at such a display.

“To prove this notebook really can kill—that much should be done before we can move forward with the investigation. Even catching whoever is using the second notebook right now... even with the presence of that Shinigami... this will be difficult if we don't verify it one-hundred percent. No, we _need_ to verify it.” Ryuzaki's voice was laced with distinct distaste, and even... discomfort? Concern? He was normally so carefully guarded, but something about his demeanor now had Light's attention as quick as a shark noticed blood in the water.

He already had an idea of where this conversation was going, but it would be suspicious if he clued in too quickly, when the Light Yagami who'd been working with the task force for the past few months had been so optimistic, so trusting, so forgiving. No, he had to play good for now.

“That would mean—writing someone's name down and seeing if they die. You're right, Ryuzaki, just the thought of that's giving me a bad feeling.”

Ryuzaki shot Light a bland look. Light didn't even acknowledge him.

“—But there's bound to be a way to do it with minimal collateral damage,” he continued, tone so _earnest_ he felt like he should be patting himself on the back for a good performance. “What about arranging to have a death row prisoner use it? Someone who'd die within thirteen days anyway, so even with that rule...”

“That's a good idea, Light-kun,” Ryuzaki said quietly, setting the notebook down on the table without taking his hands off of it. If this were a poker match, Ryuzaki's feet would undeniably be his tell—he was still as death from the ankles up, staring at the white blank pages with eyes that seemed a hair's breadth from glazing over, but his feet were twitching and fidgeting like they had a mind of their own.

Light took another long drink of his coffee, leaning back with an arm stretched over the back of the couch. He didn't really like it with no sugar like this, but his pride wasn't about to allow him to sweeten it now.

“That's not what's bothering you.”

“There are two or more notebooks currently in our world. The chance that there are more than two is less than one percent, so let's say for now... there are two notebooks. One used by the first Kira and one used by the second Kira. When the first and second Kiras were in contact, Kira would have had access to both notebooks, but now—whoever the current Kira might be, they only have the one. The current Kira was aware of Higuchi and killed him, so the current Kira, even if they are neither the first or second Kira, knows of this notebook.”

Light bit back a smile. Oh, this could be _fun_.

“...The current Kira probably killed Higuchi with the intention of stealing his notebook, and with that plan having failed, he'd be ready to do anything to get it. And he'd know that if the police had seized it, it would have to get tested one way or another... so it ending up out of your hands might be just the kind of opening he's waiting for.”

Ryuzaki glanced at Light appraisingly. Suspiciously. Of course the thirteen day rule wouldn't fool him completely, but it'd be checkmate before he had the chance to prove it wrong... or with where this was going, he'd personally verify it.

“As per usual, Light-kun's deductive skills are remarkably sharp.” Black eyes turned downwards, and Ryuzaki flipped to the rules at the front of the Death Note, seeming to skim them over. “So you most likely know what the solution would be, as well.”

Light set down his cup, leaned forward slightly.

“It has to be tested without leaving this building, by someone who Kira couldn't possibly be controlling.”

Ryuzaki took a handful of sugar cubes and dropped them into the second cup of coffee, stirring it with his pinky. Light nudged a spoon towards him, which went ignored. “Yes.”

 _Showtime._ Thoughtfulness, then—dawning realization. Shock. Concern. Light could have been an actor, in another life.

“You can't be serious, Ryuzaki.”

Ryuzaki emptied six containers of creamer into his cup, leaning down to sip straight from the rim when it was too full to lift as a result. He held Light's gaze for a long moment as he downed the rest of the cup in one gulp. He didn't need to say a single word for Light to know he was right on the money. _No, no, don't laugh. Not now. Not now._

“You must be insane,” he said instead, the corner of his mouth twitching in what he hoped looked like disapproval.

“Not an unfair assessment,” Ryuzaki mumbled, popping a sugar cube into his mouth. Light gave a practiced scoff of disbelief, running a hand through his still sleep-mussed hair.

“You're going to write in it yourself.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Why are you acting so surprised, Light-kun?”

Ryuzaki spoke plainly, like a man who didn't currently have three sugar cubes in his mouth—and like a man who hadn't just expressed his intent to commit first-degree murder. If Light didn't have his memories again, he would have undoubtedly found his coolness unsettling. He could still remember his horror at how Misa had been treated, no matter how necessary it had been... at what his father had been made to do... at Ryuzaki's willingness to put Misa in terrible danger, and then to let Higuchi keep killing... Light could draw on all of that now, easily. Siphon just what emotion he needed into his expression and tone.

“Ryuzaki, you're talking about _killing someone_ here.” And what a blow to Ryuzaki's whole persona taking that step would be. L, who never got his hands dirty, who would never have to do something so directly. That Light's plan had not only fallen into place perfectly, but cornered Ryuzaki into a situation like this, was more than he'd even dared to expect, and there was a certain _excitement_ in it—like this was the precipice of something.

_You reminded me of L,_ Naomi Misora had said, so soon before she'd turned her back and walked to her death. Light had found it funny at the time. Now he remembered her words with a distinct curiosity.

“I know you've always been willing to do whatever it takes to solve a case, but this—”

“ _Whatever it takes._ Precisely, Light-kun. The only way to have one-hundred percent certainty about the notebook's powers is to be in control of every step of the process.” Light realized then, looking at him, that he hadn't let go of the Death Note completely in the entire time they'd been talking. The edge with the torn corner was firmly between one thumb and forefinger, as if—what? He thought something would happen if he wasn't touching it, even for an instant? Of course the timing of Higuchi's death wouldn't have missed Ryuzaki's notice, but every page of it had been searched thoroughly back in headquarters. Not even _L_ could suspect that Light had written Higuchi's name in _it,_ but there was no doubt he still thought he might have had something to do with it. Ryuzaki was _frustratingly_ suspicious of the fake rules, even with Rem's assurance they were real. _But that's not going to be a problem for much longer_. “Don't tell me you really haven't thought of that yourself.”

Ryuzaki's piercing stare was enough to tell Light it was time to shift gears. It would look just as bad on him if he played too dumb, too, if he pushed it far enough that it was too obviously an act.

He paused for exactly ten seconds, then looked away from Ryuzaki, expression just the tiniest bit sheepish.

“No, you're right. To tell you the truth, I think part of me was expecting something like this might happen.” Light made his admittances like confessing his sins, like he was sorry he'd had those kinds of doubts in the first place, whether they were being validated now or not. That was the kind of thing he would have done before, after all. “I've been pretty wary about leaving headquarters since we've had the notebook here.”

Ryuzaki had already noticed that Light was staying in headquarters practically twenty-four hours a day, so he might as well let him think it was because of the notebook. Seeing Ryuzaki's subtle nod of acknowledgment was all Light needed to know he'd just told him exactly what he'd expected to hear, and that was _safe_.

“...But I still can't agree with this, Ryuzaki.” Playing the concerned friend, that was out of the danger zone, too—Light was going to push this, absolutely, but he couldn't seem too eager too soon. The Light Yagami he was supposed to be would be mortified at the idea of his _very dear friend_ doing something like this, and he needed to play his role properly. “No matter what the reason is, we're still talking about _murder_. And more importantly, if you write someone's name down, you'll die in thirteen days.”

It would be laughably easy to get Rem to cooperate. L out of the picture and his and Misa's alibi secured—did Ryuzaki even know how stupidly simple he was going to make this? He may as well get down on bended knee and hand Light his victory on a silver platter.

“I don't need Light-kun's approval.” Ryuzaki's tone reminded Light of _Sayu,_ of all people, for a single instant, that same sort of overconfident petulance of a child telling someone _they're not the boss of them_. Curling tighter in on himself, he kept one hand on the corner of the notebook while he began to stack the containers of creamer into a neat pyramid. “And the purpose of this discussion was not to get your blessing.”

“Then why did you—oh.” Light crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. He focused on Ryuzaki's pyramid rather than his face, and found himself wishing, for an instant, that glaring at it was enough to knock it over. The defensiveness and frustration he was putting on now might be far from genuine on their own, but he'd always found the detective's habit of _playing with his food_ grating. No, not always. When they'd been cuffed together, when he hadn't had his memories, he'd found it amusing enough... but he wasn't himself then. Far from it. Or so he could say.

He knew, theoretically, that he was more himself then than he was now.

He'd screamed when he'd remembered he was Kira, after all.

But he'd buried any regret better than he'd buried the notebook. All it was was a _side-effect_.

“I know what you're doing, Ryuzaki.”

“Oh?” Ryuzaki popped another three sugar cubes into his mouth, loudly crunching them between his molars. “What am I doing?”

“You're baiting me into volunteering to write in it in your place.” He could have even fallen for that if it weren't so _transparent_. L must really be getting desperate—and Light knew he was going to enjoy watching Ryuzaki squirm. “Because if I were Kira, that would mean I either knew the thirteen day rule was false or knew a way to get out of it, so I'd be in no danger. I could try to kill everyone here with the notebook.”

Ryuzaki took a handgun out of the loose pocket of his jeans. Light started, despite himself, but drew himself together again in an instant. _Inhale, exhale._

“—At which point you would shoot me. You know you're not supposed to be carrying one of those in Japan, don't you?” For a second, Light thought Ryuzaki was actually going to smile at that. He didn't; he simply replaced the gun in his pocket with a curt nod. “Ryuzaki, do you really think I would be that careless, if I were Kira? You keep using the same tricks.”

“No, if Light-kun were Kira, he would have almost definitely predicted that I would take some precaution to make sure he couldn't use the notebook in any way other than what I intended.” Ryuzaki helped himself to Light's now-cold cup of coffee, bored with plain sugar cubes. He dipped one into the coffee and let it soak up the liquid before placing it on his tongue. “Like how you figured it out now. But it was a possibility worth preparing for, even if it was only a one-percent chance.”

Light fell silent, soaking that in like he was just another coffee-darkened sugar cube between the detective's fingers.

When a wave of realization washed over him this time, it took no theatrics.

_That son of a bitch._ He'd wanted to wake Light from sleep to talk to him about this now, not during the day, because there couldn't be any chance that anyone else could overhear this—

“You wanted me to be the only one to know. That way, even if you die in thirteen days, it wouldn't conclusively prove my alibi.” All it took was a moment of thought to calm himself down again, luckily. _Nice try, L, but that logic's not about to fly with anyone but you. In fact, by the time you could tell the rest of the task force as much—the only person they'll know to be guilty of murder will be you._ “There's really nothing that will convince you I'm not Kira, is there, Ryuzaki?”

“If I die, the chance that Light-kun is Kira will drastically decrease, but the rest of task force will be informed that further testing will have to be done. If we don't catch Kira before I would die, of course.” And for all that _drastically decreasing,_ nothing would ever put it at zero in L's mind... But his mind wouldn't be doing anything, soon enough. If this was his back-up plan, it was flimsy. “How would you define _murder,_ Light-kun?”

“What?”

“How would you define murder?” Even having heard Ryuzaki's question twice, Light wasn't certain he was hearing him properly. “Returning to your previous point, Light-kun.”

“A human being deliberately killing another human being.”

“Concisely put, but in this context...” Ryuzaki ran his thumb along the torn edge of the Death Note's paper again, giving a quiet little hum of thought. “Hypothetically, if Kira had forced, say... _Raye Penber_ to write the names of his coworkers in the Death Note, under threat to his life and that of his family, the person who killed the other agents would be Raye Penber.”

_Had he really gotten that far already?_

Not even a flicker of emotion made it to Light's face. He'd kept his composure through more than that, and this—he should have expected this, now that they knew how Kira killed, and L might have noticed the envelope Penber had left on the train. Rem had done as she'd said and told everyone that she didn't know if pieces of the notebook would still kill people, but “I don't know” wasn't a “no.”

No, this was just annoying. Still harmless.

“But,” Ryuzaki continued, eyes still fixated on the sugar cubes he was flavoring and eating one by one, “who would be guilty of murder, in that case?”

_You could have said it yourself, but you want to see if I'll call my own actions murder. You should know by now I'll play whatever game you want me to play, L._

“Kira,” Light said, not missing a beat.

“But Kira wouldn't have been the one to kill those FBI agents.” Even if Light hadn't been watching Ryuzaki, he would have been able to feel that the other was looking at him before he saw it. There was an intensity in his eyes now, and in his voice, that was so starkly different from the discomfort he'd been displaying earlier. If Light were a lesser man, he might be intimidated.

_Alright, L, let's see how well **you** play._

“Yes, he would have been. He just used Raye Penber as his murder weapon. You _know_ this, Ryuzaki—what are you getting at?”

“Very good, Light-kun. _He used Raye Penber as his murder weapon_... you're very eloquent.” Ryuzaki licked the remaining sugar and coffee from his fingers rather shamelessly, not taking his eyes off Light. “So in this case, if we were to use Light-kun's suggestion and have a death row inmate use the notebook to kill another inmate—I would be using the first inmate as a murder weapon.”

“You sound like you _want_ me to think of you as a murderer, Ryuzaki.”

“I am one. Never _directly,_ but removed by only one step... I think we'll both be far less uncomfortable with this if we don't make any excuses about that, Light-kun. To test this notebook means I, personally, will have to be responsible for a murder. Also, since Kira will probably kill me whether I do this or not—you know, Light-kun, this will probably be my last chance to do something to deserve it.”

He said it so bluntly that Light barely realized it was a joke.

He didn't take the bait and refused to laugh.

Ryuzaki leaped up from his seat on the couch nimbly, bringing the Death Note along with him as he headed in the direction of the computers.

About a meter away from the couches, he stopped, glanced at Light, then at his right wrist.

“Follow me, please.”

Light pulled himself upright and padded after Ryuzaki, sock feet practically silent on the tile floor. If it weren't for the cameras, he could probably sneak up on Ryuzaki from behind with little trouble, have an arm around his throat—if he was ever inclined to do that sort of thing. For now, even killing him with the Death Note could wait, _would_ wait thirteen days... but it wasn't a bad thing to consider, what it would be like the old-fashioned way. It would be a much more tangible victory, at least.

Ryuzaki climbed into his chair, waved for Light to take his usual seat at his right. Light complied, leaning one elbow against the desk to prop his head up against his hand. He hadn't drank much of his coffee before Ryuzaki had taken it for himself, and what little caffeine he'd ingested hadn't hit his bloodstream yet. The fact that it was the middle of the night was starting to catch up with him, but he couldn't go dropping off now.

This was just getting to the good part.

Ryuzaki turned on his monitor and brought his computer to life, bringing up the same files they used to confirm each of Kira's victims. Long lists of prisoners, names in Japanese and Chinese characters, Hangul, the Roman alphabet, Cyrillic—even scripts Light couldn't recognize. Each linked to a full record, as well as to a location on a map, and marked with one word; alive or dead.

_You're actually going to do this. You're actually going to sit here and pick someone, just like I did. You'll write their name in the Death Note, just like I did. Do you even realize how much of a hypocrite you are, L?_

Seemingly at random, Ryuzaki pulled up one record—that of a Japanese man who looked to be in his mid-forties. Light recognized him before he even read the name; he was one of the criminals he'd been keeping saved up _just in case._

“Kosuke Gōto,” Ryuzaki said, chewing on his thumbnail with such intensity that Light almost worried he might bite his thumb clean off. “Forty-six years old. Murdered five people—his wife and son, as well as his wife's sister, her husband, and one of her two daughters. He also stabbed two policemen while evading arrest, though both policemen survived. He's scheduled to be executed at 9 AM tomorrow... though his execution was already delayed once, due to some paperwork mishaps. If everything had gone according to plan, he would have died six months ago. He's certainly someone Kira would kill... the first Kira, at least... his death wouldn't attract any attention as being out of the ordinary, even from the police, and he'd be very well monitored in prison, so it would be easy to confirm his death along with the current Kira's other victims... But if he just dies of a heart attack, it could have been the current Kira, so that would mean...”

_Would you look at that, L? You've got a knack for this._

“Are you sure _you_ aren't Kira?”

“Yes.”

“That was a joke.”

“It was also a completely understandable accusation.” Ryuzaki plucked a pen from a holder behind his monitor, chewing on the end of it in place of his thumb. “What do you think, Light-kun?”

“Ryuzaki—I'm not going to stop you from doing this, but leave me out of this part of it, would you? I don't want you asking me who I think you should kill.” That had 'trap' written all over it in big broad strokes. “You already said you think he's someone the real Kira would pick, and you know Kira as well as I do.”

_Yeah, right._

“Apologies, Light-kun.” Ryuzaki stared at the monitor for a solid forty seconds before removing the pen, which he had apparently gotten to second base with, from his mouth. “—There's one more reason I was going to wake you up.”

“What was that?”

“I didn't want to be alone when I did this.”

And, with the sudden earnestness leaving Light reeling, Ryuzaki began to write.

_Kosuke Gōto  
Heart attack_

_Writes the English letter **L** on the floor of his cell with his own blood, then dies._

“The media will report it as a simple heart attack and the police will think Kira is taunting me again,” Ryuzaki explained before Light even had the chance to think about voicing concerns. “Without something I would be able to immediately recognize... there would be the chance, however slight, that it was the current Kira instead.”

His eyes drifted to the clock at the bottom corner of his computer monitor. Light didn't need a clock to count out forty seconds—certainly not anymore.

Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.

“What if Kira's already controlling you?” Light asked, on a whim. Ryuzaki stared into middle distance, pondering it.

Thirty-three. Thirty-four. Thirty-five.

“God help us all,” Ryuzaki said.

Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine.

Forty.

Somewhere, Kosuke Gōto was doing exactly what was written. Light discreetly let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Ryuzaki was completely still.

“Ryuzaki?”

“I thought I would feel something.” Ryuzaki's voice was hardly above a whisper, and if this was the middle of the day, with all the bustling of the rest of the task force at work, Light was sure he wouldn't have been able to hear him.

“When Light-kun was under surveillance, I thought... it must be impossible for Kira to kill without any visible sign. A change of expression, something—even if Kira simply needed to wish a person's death to kill them. No one could kill without feeling anything. That was what I thought.”

Slowly, Ryuzaki turned off his monitor, closed the notebook, and returned the pen to its holder.

“Light-kun, I don't feel anything.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Light squinted at the bright morning sunlight filtering in through his windows, his eyes rebelling at the idea of being put to any use before they decided they were ready in their own time. He'd always tended to be an early riser, but his 7:30 AM alarm only agreed with him when he was in bed asleep by midnight, and when he didn't miss a half hour of sleep in the ungodly hours of the morning.

If he weren't so uncharacteristically tired, he would have thought it was a dream.

Part of him thought it must have been a dream anyway, though he wouldn't be pleased with the sense of humor his subconscious must be developing if it was.

Sighing, he peeled himself out of bed, heading to the adjoining bathroom with eyes still half-shut. Tired or not, this still beat being quite literally _dragged_ out of bed by Ryuzaki whenever his _roommate_ decided Light had slept long enough. Looking back, he wondered if the sleep deprivation was deliberate—some kind of attempt at slowly wearing him down to get him to confess. He wouldn't put it past Ryuzaki to have tried something like that, but he hadn't given it any thought at the time, or he'd just chalked it up to another of the detective's laundry list of abnormalities, particularly since the man barely ever seemed to sleep himself.

Light spent half an hour under the hot spray of the shower, letting his mind go numb and blank until the only thing he could sense was the warm water washing over his skin. Long showers were another luxury that there was no chance for when the handcuffs had been on, and it wasn't exactly easy to relax with those big black eyes staring at him non-stop, anyway... As much as he and Ryuzaki had managed to achieve relatively peaceful cohabitation, while Light was lacking his memories, the complete lack of privacy had still been wearing on him.

He washed his hair and got out of the shower, taking his time to get himself properly dressed and groomed before heading downstairs at exactly 8:30.

The Death Note sitting closed on the coffee table, Ryuzaki was slowly spinning in his chair with a stick of gooey _goma dango_ in one hand, everyone else, as they slowly filtered in, seemed to be going about their work like any other day—everything looked _normal._ Mundane.

Light wondered, for a moment, if he really had dreamed up the events of the previous night after all.

Then he made eye contact with Rem, standing pale and ominous on the other side of the room. Her expression was never terribly easy to read, but she glanced from him to Ryuzaki with something that Light thought might be confusion, and that was all he needed to see to know the truth.

The rather singular look Ryuzaki gave him, and the fact that Light's presence was enough to completely stop his spinning, only made it clearer. Meeting L's eyes then was strange, different. It didn't feel like accusation as much as before, but now—it was like there was an _understanding_ between them.

From one murderer to another.

Light shook that off quickly, and put it out of his mind that he'd had to shake it off at all. They were never going to be anything like _allies,_ that much was set in stone. That was a matter of pride, if nothing else. Even now with this, with what Ryuzaki had done—Light could use that, sure, but Ryuzaki was certainly intending to use him just as much. And come what may... it would all be over in thirteen days.

Light sat down at his own monitor to Ryuzaki's right, just like always, and put on a good show of getting to work, but he knew he and Ryuzaki both couldn't care less for reviewing Misa's most recent thirty-two. For Light, though he was at least pretending, it was simply worthless, and Ryuzaki... he had to be going mad waiting to see the results of his test.

Light couldn't help but feel a misplaced sense of déjà vu, watching him so obviously restless, fidgeting and chewing on the bamboo skewer even after he'd finished off the dango. Months back, Light had been in the same position, going about his day while all he wanted to do was get home and check the NPA's reports to see if what he'd written in the Death Note had worked.

He doubted L would appreciate the irony the same way he did.

It was a few minutes after Aizawa had made it through security that the monitors started to light up, reported deaths automatically matching up to names, files and locations. The task force leaped into action on a dime, and only Light and Ryuzaki knew that there was only one name in particular that mattered now.

“Another seventeen criminals died of heart attacks.”

“Three days in a row. Damn Kira...”

All of them were grim-faced—Aizawa at his computer, Soichiro and Mogi behind him. Matsuda even pounded his fist against the desk to emphasize his anger.

“All of them reported after Higuchi died, except one.”

Light could see Ryuzaki perk up, like a cat that caught the scent of a mouse.

“Kosuke Gōto... He was scheduled to be executed this morning, but died of a heart attack in his cell last night. His arrest was reported two years ago.”

“The first and second Kiras often killed prisoners who had been serving their sentences for months, or even years.” Ryuzaki chewed on his thumbnail, swiveling his chair around so he was facing the rest of them. “Did he exhibit any unusual behavior that could suggest he was being controlled by Kira before death? Higuchi could have scheduled this man's death in advance for some reason—or it could even be one of the prior Kiras.”

Light had to admit he was impressed with L's poker face, and with how smoothly he'd sought the information he needed.

 _I don't feel anything,_ Ryuzaki had said after he'd written in the notebook.

_You know, L, all those police forces you work with around the world... they should be grateful you decided to be a detective._

Aizawa nodded, clicked a few times to bring up the full report on Gōto's death, and froze. Matsuda, looking over his shoulder, actually jumped a pace back.

“Ryuzaki, before he died, he...” Matsuda stammered, reaching out like he was going to grab Ryuzaki's shoulder before he seemed to think better of it and pulled his hand back. “...You've gotta look at this.”

On Aizawa's monitor was a picture of Kosuke Gōto's cell, the man's body face-down in the middle of it—with a large capital “L” drawn in blood on the floor by his hand. Light resisted the urge to smile as Ryuzaki rolled his chair over to see for himself.

“That would certainly qualify as unusual behavior,” Ryuzaki said flatly, stark in contrast to the panic the picture had apparently incited in Matsuda, and to a lesser extent, the other task force members.

“It must be some kind of message from Kira...” Soichiro pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, sighing in frustration.

“Like the notes... This isn't the first time Kira's controlled his victims to reach out to L,” Aizawa said, a sentiment Mogi affirmed with a nod and quick “Yes.”

“Does that mean we're dealing with the first Kira again?” As expected, the idea seemed to bring Soichiro as much relief as it added to his clear distress at the murders.

 _Because if the first Kira was killing again, there'd be no chance the first Kira was me_.

“Is that even possible? Even if Light-kun and Misa-Misa are innocent, Higuchi had one of the notebooks, and he was the only one killing criminals. Doesn't that mean the first and second Kira should already be dead by now?” In a surprising turn of events, Matsuda's concerns were actually ones that his colleagues seemed to consider worth thinking about.

“He only had one notebook. It could have belonged to the second Kira. If the first Kira still has his notebook, he could have been killing people with suicide, illness and accidents, so they wouldn't have been reported as Kira victims. As long as he wrote a name down every twelve days, he could still be alive,” Aizawa said, looking over to Rem lurking over them. “Is that right?”

Rem shrugged noncommittally. “He could be.”

_Good enough, Rem._

Light bit the inside of cheek just to make sure he kept a straight face before chiming in himself.

“We shouldn't jump to any conclusions either way. This Kira might just want L's attention.” He spared a glance at Ryuzaki, who, naturally, was staring at him. Wondering if Light was going to reveal him, most likely. He'd admittedly considered it, but that could wait. For now. “He's primarily killing criminals right as their crimes are broadcast—but to send a message, he probably picked someone he knew would be found right away and would have the ability to pull off something like this. He's already more petty than the first Kira, and if the first Kira _was_ keeping a low profile for this long, I doubt he'd suddenly draw so much attention to himself. Either way, though, there might be more to the message in the next few days.”

The corner of Light's mouth quirked up just a fraction of a centimeter. He couldn't help it. “What do you think, Ryuzaki?”

“I agree with Yagami-kun. I don't think the current Kira is the first Kira.” Light could have probably predicted that word for word—naturally Ryuzaki wouldn't believe that the sixteen other murders were the first Kira's work, even separate from his own murder, because he was never going to let go of the belief that the first Kira was the man he'd spent three months handcuffed to, even with an “air-tight alibi” practically shoved in his face.

Ryuzaki was fidgeting with his feet again when he continued. “...I also think we shouldn't concern ourselves with the message as of now. If there's any more to it, we'll find out soon—likely by tomorrow. Please don't pay it any mind until then.”

In an instant, the monitors all went white, bearing Watari's black Gothic “W.” Light thought he might have caught a glimpse of Ryuzaki _rolling his eyes_ as he rolled back to his computer and swiveled around to face the screen. _Really like a petulant child, huh._

“Ryuzaki,” came Watari's voice over the speakers, rather grandfatherly in firm concern.

“What is it, Watari?” For how unassuming he was acting, Light could still tell Ryuzaki knew this wasn't just a regular check-in—Watari would have been watching over the security cameras last night, and the idea of Ryuzaki leaving all his colleagues, save Light, completely in the dark about the ticking time bomb he'd personally strapped himself to didn't seem like the kind of thing that would go without some disapproval from L's—whatever Watari was to him. Light had never asked and never could, lest it be considered a ploy to get L's real name, but he had actually begun to think that the elderly man might really be L's grandfather.

Watari cleared his throat and didn't say a word, but just that was enough that Ryuzaki's expression and body language shifted instantly. Not the petulant child now—the ashamed son caught doing something he'd been told not to. Just looking at how Ryuzaki reacted, Light felt like he'd eavesdropped on a silent conversation. _“I'm sure you'd prefer to tell them yourself than to have me do it”_ —or something to that effect.

The screens returned to normal, and Ryuzaki turned in his chair. He looked to Light, who quickly made sure any trace of amusement was gone from his face completely, then focused his dark-rimmed eyes on the rest of the task force.

“Kosuke Gōto was not killed by the current Kira,” Ryuzaki said, his coolness regained with little trouble. “The chance that this killer notebook is legitimate is one-hundred percent. And there will be no more messages like this—this one was not a message at all.”

“Ryuzaki, what are you talking about?” Soichiro asked. Light's eyes, however, were on Matsuda—Matsuda, who was already wide-eyed, shaking his head in disbelief. And Aizawa, his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were bone-white.

To quote Ryuk, this was certainly going to be a _riot_.

“I apologize. I intended to withhold information from you again, which was selfish of me. If you're aware of all the facts, it will make it easier to solve this case.” Ryuzaki pressed his thumb to his bottom lip, scraping his teeth over the underside of it. He gripped his knee with his other hand and turned to face his monitor again, like—the eye contact was too much for him, all of a sudden. Light had had a lot of time to observe L's mannerisms, and he knew by now that these ones meant nervousness. “—Particularly since I'll most likely die in just under thirteen days.”

Light took an instant to glance at Rem. Much to his relief, she gave a tiny nod.

_All according to plan._

“No!” Matsuda shouted, the pieces falling into place for him just that instant quicker than it did for the rest of them. Light had always pegged him as being a bit slow, and too trusting, but he supposed he wouldn't be here if he was _entirely_ stupid... “Ryuzaki, did _you_ —?”

Aizawa stood up so abruptly that his chair slid back a good three fit, narrowly missing Mogi, and he slapped his palm against the desk. “So that's how it is now, huh? We just got back in the NPA's good books, but now—we're working for a murderer?”

“We're also certain about the validity of the notebook, which will make catching the current Kira far easier,” Ryuzaki said, mumbling around his thumb. Aizawa lunged towards his chair, swinging him around to face him and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Do you think that _justifies_ it? You remember when we got those notes? You said Kira was using those prisoners to test something. Like lab rats. What happened to it being despicable to play games with human lives?” His voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings— _with human lives? With human lives? With human lives?_

Ryuzaki grabbed Aizawa's forearm tight enough that the latter seemed to be resisting the urge to wince.

“I don't recall being the one to say such a thing was despicable—or not, at least, occasionally necessary. If you could let go of me, Aizawa-san—please do.”

L hadn't been so cold when he'd been trying to get Light to confess to being Kira. It practically made Light shiver, hearing him now.

Tension rose like the steady build of anticipation when a roller coaster car approached the top of a high drop. If Aizawa actually had the guts to strike Ryuzaki, like he so clearly wanted to—Light could _see_ his hands shaking—this would _really_ get interesting.

His eyes drifted and found his father; Soichiro had looked better when he had just suffered a stress-induced heart attack. Mogi was still as a statue, but his face had paled a few shades since the conversation had begun. Matsuda looked awfully close to tears.

Aizawa let go of Ryuzaki and backed off, turning away.

“Thank you, Aizawa-san,” Ryuzaki said politely.

Aizawa shut his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets as if that were the only way he could be trusted to know what he was doing with them. “Are you Kira?”

One could have heard a pin drop in the subsequent silence.

“Yagami-kun asked me the same question,” Ryuzaki said, finally, “but he meant it as a joke.”

“Do I sound like I'm joking, Ryuzaki?”

“No, but I'm not good with jokes.”

Light suspected Aizawa was regretting not hitting L when he'd had his hands on him.

“Yagami-kun and Watari can both confirm that the only name I wrote in the notebook was 'Kosuke Gōto.' You're free to inspect every page of it yourselves as well.” He waved in the direction of the Death Note sitting atop the coffee table. “You're also free to discuss amongst yourselves whether or not you wish to continue working with me in these circumstances. No, I highly recommend that you do. But if you choose to leave, no one not currently in this room is to be told about this.”

He paused, fixing a pointed look at the back of Aizawa's head.

“By that I mean 'telling the authorities about this will result in severe consequences, but not for me.' Feel free to take as long as you like to decide whether or not you'll be staying. Yagami-kun, you as well.”

And miss this? He'd really be insane if he skipped out before he saw this through. There was no misunderstanding about what kind of consequences he was implying, whether he had any intention of following through or not. The world's greatest detective, Kira's arch-nemesis, holding Kira's murder weapon as a threat over the heads of his team... this was better than any _movie_ he'd ever seen.

So Light shook his head, approaching Ryuzaki and putting a hand on his shoulder. That kind of touch used to be so typical between them, so even now that things had changed, with Light's memories being back—it wouldn't seem out of place.

“You know I don't like this, Ryuzaki, but I trust you. I swore we'd send Kira to the gallows together.” _Too cheesy? No, I sounded like that all the time before._ He was sure Ryuzaki didn't buy it, but Ryuzaki didn't buy anything that came out of Light's mouth—he just had to look genuine to everyone else.

“Then Yagami-kun and I will stay here. Go ahead and talk in the lobby, or outside of the building if you need more time. I'd prefer you don't return here until you've all made your decisions.”

“Understood.” Soichiro was the only one of them to speak, then. He looked ashen, a few years older than he had the day prior.

When the others had already turned to leave, he walked towards Light instead, sighing low and weary.

“You knew about this, Light?”

“Yes, dad.” He was already the first name listed to vouch for L not secretly being a serial killer. There wasn't much he could hide now. “You've got every right to leave, but I'm staying with Ryuzaki.”

Soichiro nodded, grave, and left to deliberate with the others.

“That was a good act you put on.”

“What makes you think I was acting, Light-kun?”

Light pulled his hand away from Ryuzaki's shoulder, now that they were alone—alone with Rem, at least—and huffed with quiet laughter.

“I know what kind of person you are.” Maybe not quite as well as he thought. “You were scaring them on purpose. Whoever decides to stay, you want them to be so certain in their loyalty that they'd stay even if you _were_ Kira. No risk of anyone double-crossing you that way. But the Ryuzaki I know would never use the notebook the way you were threatening to, even if someone did try to turn you in to the police.”

“I wouldn't use the notebook,” Ryuzaki agreed, but there was something Light couldn't place in his voice.

Whatever it was, he thought he'd like to hear it again for further study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watari and Rem will get more of a chance to do things in the future!! They've both only had tiny parts thus far.
> 
> Misa will also be making some appearances.


	4. Chapter 4

Only Matsuda and Soichiro came back upstairs, almost half an hour later.

Aizawa's absence came as no surprise, considering, but Light had been on the fence about whether Mogi would decide to stay or not. Apparently not. That was a bit of a mixed blessing—he was certainly one of the more skilled members of their team, a very hard worker and not terribly difficult to work with, but those traits were only truly positives when Light had been trying to work on the investigation in earnest. At this point, being rid of one of the stronger links was practical.

If they didn't catch Kira before L's death, after all, it wouldn't be difficult on Light's part to make sure they never did.

It'd be a bit of a shame, he supposed, not having the challenge of his game with L, but at that point he'd have to devote all his efforts to creating his new world. The world was going to need Kira, and even if he could keep up this cat and mouse game longer for his own _entertainment,_ that would be selfish of him.

L's piece was going to be removed from the board soon enough, by his own choice. Everything was going perfectly.

“Yagami-san and Matsuda-san.” Ryuzaki turned to face them, rather aggressively biting into a macaron. Watari had brought a tray of them not long before, along with one of sandwiches for those who didn't feel like eating pure sugar for breakfast. Light had helped himself to one, at least a touch grateful that he wasn't going to have to make his own breakfast and possibly miss some part of the show.

“By coming back here, you're saying that you're willing to work with me for the next thirteen days _without question_. Do you understand?”

“I'm with you, Ryuzaki!” Matsuda was insistent, though his voice was still trembling, his face still slightly ashen. It certainly wasn't unreasonable that the task force didn't take this well, but Light found himself surprised at exactly how _profound_ an effect it was having. Was it just because he was Kira himself that the idea of working under someone who'd taken a life didn't faze him? Because the victim was someone he would have killed himself, and was even intending to? Because what Ryuzaki had done was so uncannily in line with Light's own beliefs?

Was it strength on his part, or weakness on _theirs_?

“I mean—I don't believe this is _right,_ but you're sacrificing yourself to stop Kira too,” Matsuda continued. “Even if I can't say I agree with what you did... if it'll help us catch him, I have to accept that you're doing the right thing. We've had your back all this time, and I can't just give up now. We'll catch Kira, and—we'll make your sacrifice worthwhile, Ryuzaki!”

“Thank you, Matsuda-san.” Ryuzaki, who hadn't even bothered to swallow the macaron in his mouth before speaking, seemed utterly unmoved. “Yagami-san?”

“Matsuda is right. We swore we were willing to sacrifice everything to solve this case. While I can't say I believe murder is justified, even in a case like this, if we hadn't been able to prove that the notebook worked—Kira might have never been able to have been charged with murder himself, even if we caught him. If Kira is never brought to justice, it doesn't matter if our consciences are clear.” Though his face was drawn as well, Soichiro's voice was far firmer than Matsuda's—if he still had any doubts about his decision, they were buried far deeper. No doubt he was one of the first to decide, just as he had been when it was a matter of choosing between L's team and the NPA; Light knew his father took this case far more personally than anyone. “—And I have faith in my son.”

“Thank you, dad,” Light said, letting himself seem deeply effected by that expression of trust—like he should be. Like he would have been. _Honor-bound son_ was the easiest mask to slip into, when that had been the one he'd been wearing most of his life. “We'll catch Kira together, I swear.”

Soichiro gave a slow nod, but after a moment, he cleared his throat. “Ryuzaki, there's one more thing.”

Ryuzaki's attention was on yet another macaron, which he put in his mouth whole. “Yes, Yagami-san?”

“Matsuda and I both agree that it might be for the best if one of us were to keep the notebook somewhere safe, away from here—”

“ _Out of the question_.”

Even Light only barely stopped himself from jumping. Ryuzaki almost never raised his voice, and the one time Light had heard it, it had been when they'd been after Higuchi—in a situation that could easily mean countless deaths if they didn't take action. An emergency.

And yet now he'd lost all that self control out of what didn't seem like anything more than _anger_.

_Are you really that paranoid about losing the notebook to Kira? Or..._

“The notebook will not leave this building, nor will I at any point be unaware of its location.” Though he'd seemed to have regained his cool when it came to his tone of voice, Ryuzaki still practically jumped out of his chair, approaching Soichiro and Matsuda with long, quick strides. “If you don't trust me, please leave with Aizawa-san and Mogi-san and work on this case on your own. Yagami-kun and I will work together.”

“Ryuzaki...”

“Do you trust me, Yagami-san?” Ryuzaki took another step towards Soichiro, that same unplaceable something in his voice from before. Light couldn't see his face, but he could see his father's—and his father was intimidated.

Time to get back into character, then.

He stood from his seat at well, coming up behind Ryuzaki and grabbing him by the arm, as if to hold him back. “Ryuzaki, cut it out. Can you blame them for being worried about the notebook? Anyone would want to write in it again—just to avoid dying.”

“ _Anyone would want to write in it again_... is that right, Yagami-kun?”

_That's right, L. I bet even you're afraid to die._

Ryuzaki took a step back, though, and his body language seemed to soften. Light could feel the muscles in his arm relax under his hand. He loosened his grip but didn't let go, not yet.

Playing the _good cop_ to Ryuzaki's _bad cop_ seemed like the best way to go, when it came to the others. _I'm on his side, but I'm here to keep things sane_... or something like that. Light was sure Matsuda and his father would buy that, and it didn't matter whether Ryuzaki did or not. Even with the others knowing what Ryuzaki had done, they hadn't been there like Light had—and there was something empowering in that. _“He had it all planned out so quickly and knew the rules so well I'd swear he'd done it before,”_ he could say. _“He told me killing didn't make him feel anything.”_ He could turn them all on L so easily, and though he had little use for that power now, when the most fun would be playing through the game to its set end, he relished in the fact that he had it.

He expected Ryuzaki to apologize, but he didn't. He didn't even look apologetic in the slightest. Calmer than before, without a doubt, but not at all like he thought he'd done anything wrong.

“I will give the notebook to Watari for the time being,” he said, pulling his arm out of Light's grasp and putting his hands in his pockets. “Excluding emergencies, he will hold onto it. I'll be aware of its location, but it will be locked away with a password that only Watari will know, and his permission will be necessary to access it. I assume that's satisfactory, Yagami-san, Matsuda-san.”

“Huh? Uh, yes...” Matsuda jumped more from being acknowledged than he had when Ryuzaki had shouted.

“Yes, Ryuzaki,” Soichiro said, a good bit of color returning to his face. “Thank you.”

Ryuzaki gave a quiet “hmm” of acknowledgment and shuffled over to the coffee table where the Death Note sat, picking it up between two fingers.

“That will have no effect on the notebook's ownership. Correct, Rem?”

“You aren't the owner, so it doesn't matter what you do with it as long as you don't destroy it,” Rem replied, uninterested and vague as always. If she cared one way or another about the change in plan, Light couldn't tell—but she was willing to go along with it, and that was all that mattered to him. L's death in thirteen days would make Misa's alibi flawless, after all.

That would undeniably lengthen both his and Misa's lifespans, so he could even be rid of Rem in the process, too. He almost wished he could _thank_ Ryuzaki for forking over Kira's victory so willingly.

Maybe right before he died, when he wouldn't have the chance to say anything to anyone.

“Because if it's rendered unusable, everyone who touched it will die... is what it says in the rules.” Rem only shrugged in response. Ryuzaki stared at her for a moment, then at the notebook. “A piece was torn out from one page, but no one seems to have died from that.”

“Shinigami don't use it that way, but I guess it's fine as long as the whole notebook isn't damaged. I don't know.”

_That's a little far, Rem, but it couldn't be avoided with him noticing the missing piece..._

“Thank you, Rem.” Ryuzaki turned and headed down the hall, likely to follow through on giving Watari the notebook. Soichiro and Matsuda both seemed far more at ease, but Light had to turn his back on them to hide the smirk that spread across his face. He returned to his computer and clicked around on the screen, acting as though he were checking on the other Kira victims of the previous day, but the gears were spinning in an entirely different direction in his mind.

_From that “hypothetical scenario” he gave about Raye Penber, he must already have an idea about pieces of the Death Note being able to kill, and with what Rem just said..._

Light glanced down at his watch, and nearly had to bite his tongue just to keep from laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

Rem wasn't particularly talkative company when no one tried to initiate conversation, unlike Ryuk with his almost constant chuckling and chattering; superficially engaged in his work while he pondered on this new twist in his plans behind the veil of his eyes, Light could almost forget about her presence completely.

And without Rem on his mind, without the most consistent reminder of the reason behind this convoluted scheme—Light found himself caught just slightly by surprise when Ryuzaki announced that Misa had arrived in the lobby. Everything had fallen into place _around_ her... it was too easy to ignore that she played a role in things at all. _Or maybe that's just wishful thinking_. Either way, Light was going to have to get her up to speed one way or another, and now that the supposed reason he'd been staying so close by Ryuzaki's side without break was out of the way...

“Is it alright if Misa and I go out somewhere?” Light asked, pausing to look to L, as if he really cared to get his permission, as he stood from his chair. “I know time's of the essence now more than ever, but... Since she left headquarters, I've been barely seeing her at all. I feel a little guilty not spending any time with her, after all she's done for us.”

The dutiful boyfriend. Nothing suspicious in that—all he had to do was make sure he didn't seem too eager. Not that Matsuda or his father would care if he did seem uncharacteristically interested in Misa, since they seemed to consider it a natural progression that Light would end up as in love with her as she was with him.

It was a tiring expectation, but it tended to work out to his advantage.

“If you want to,” and of course, that act didn't work on Ryuzaki in the slightest, but Light was accustomed to nothing working on him by now, “then it's fine. You're allowed to have a life outside headquarters... though you did say before you don't care much about your love life.”

“Catching Kira is still more important than anything, but after Misa's even risked her life for me, I can't just ignore her feelings completely.” He certainly wasn't going to be all that broken up about Rem being out of his hair, he could say that much. Having the freedom to do whatever he cared to about Misa, once he no longer had need for her eyes, would make everything go far smoother. Not long now. Less than two weeks, and I'll have my perfect victory. “I won't be gone for long. Besides... we talked about this, Ryuzaki.”

Whether Ryuzaki thought it suspicious for Light to be at all interested in seeing Misa, Light doubted he was going to deny the idea that he had been right about what had really been stopping him from leaving headquarters. Blaming it on the notebook was playing into Ryuzaki's own impressions, so that would have to satisfy him enough for the time being.

It wasn't as if he could get away with trying to monitor Light again. Now more than ever, both with even the remaining task force's clear distrust and the fact that they were desperately short-handed.

It was almost _boring_ how easy this was.

Misa latched herself onto Light the moment he was in the lobby, thin arms around his neck and head pressed against his chest. He tuned her out while she talked about work or clothes or _whatever_ —cutting in when he was sure he'd looked interested for long enough to please her.

“Misa—let's go somewhere together. Somewhere private.”

“Really?” Misa's face lit up like a Christmas tree and she bounced on her heels, giggling girlishly. “Yay! I thought we were saving that for after your victory against, L, but—”

“Yeah. Misa, if we go to your place, is there any chance anyone will overhear us?” _Would it kill her to be serious for a minute?_ Light put an arm around her shoulder, leading her towards the door. Misa happily nestled against his side and shook her head, still beaming from ear to ear.

“Misa lives alone, so it'll just be the two of us—well, and Ryuk...”

Ryuk, floating behind her, cackled.

“You _lovebirds_ won't even notice I'm there. Hyuk hyuk.”

“We'll stop and buy apples on the way, Ryuk, so check if Misa's room is bugged when we get there, alright?” Ryuk was as ecstatic to hear the word “apples” out of Light's mouth as Misa had been to hear that her _boyfriend_ wanted to be alone with her. Ryuk's delight, at least, did get a smile out of Light, and with his back to the security camera, no one could even think to question why. “If there were cameras, she'd have undoubtedly been arrested by now, and L did say she wasn't going to be under surveillance anymore—but there's no telling how far he's willing to go.”

That much was true now more than ever.

It had been a few months since he'd met Misa, but in all the time they'd been “dating,” Light had never actually been to her apartment. They'd been in headquarters 24/7 for the bulk of that time, and before that they'd only met in person a handful of times. There'd never been any reason to visit her at home, and even now, it was simply the most convenient place to talk, provided they could do so without being listened in on.

As he paid for half a dozen apples from a street stall, he tried to envision what the place might look like.

When she all but dragged him through the door, it matched the image in his mind exactly, creepy dolls and all. For once, he wished he'd been wrong. It was almost cringe-worthy, like it was too—phony. The whole _cute girl, gothic fashion, creepy stuffed toys_ thing seemed too much like a caricature, and the fact that it seemed, as far as he could tell, completely _genuine_ when it came to Misa rubbed him the wrong way.

Even if he never did kill Misa, her quartered lifespan was bound to run out soon enough.

Light ate one of the apples and let Misa ramble on about her life for an hour while Ryuk scoured the apartment for bugs. When he finally floated through the wall into her bedroom, he looked out of breath.

“I forgot how much of a slave driver you could be, Light,” he groaned, landing inelegantly behind Misa where she sat on her bed. “No bugs or cameras anywhere in here.”

“Here.” Light tossed one of the apples to Ryuk, then, thinking better of only giving him the one, stood up to drop the bag with the remaining ones in it by his head.

“I thought this was going to be a date, but I guess since you're being so careful about anyone hearing, you need to talk to Misa about something important. Right, Light?” Misa bounced on the edge of the bed. Light sat down in the chair by her vanity again, arms folded over his chest.

“You've been paying attention when Kira punishing criminals is reported on the news, haven't you?”

“Well, _obviously,_ ” Misa said, like she was offended he'd even suggest otherwise. _Because it's not as if she's ever made any stupid mistakes..._ “Misa's been good and done just like you said.”

“So you must have noticed that someone died whose name you didn't write.”

“Of course I noticed that! Misa thought that it must have been Higuchi who wrote his name down for today for some reason.”

Sometimes it was more frustrating when she was on the ball than when she wasn't.

“It wasn't Higuchi who killed him.” Misa cocked her head, clearly confused—questioning him without saying a single word. “Now that the task force has the Death Note, they've got Kira's murder weapon, but without proving it really worked, even if Kira was caught and proven to have a notebook... you can't arrest someone for writing names down. L decided he had to test it out himself.”

“So Ryuzaki—L—was the one who killed that criminal?” Light nodded, and Misa may as well have had stars in her eyes. “Wow... Even after he kept Misa all tied up for so long, I didn't think L would go that far.”

 _Neither did I,_ Light thought, but it was far more practical to treat this like it had been his plan all along. And it may as well have been, for how well it was working out in his favor.

“There's more to it than that. He's trying to test the fake rule Ryuk wrote in the back of the notebook. He doesn't believe it's true, so he wants to know if it's possible to live more than thirteen days after writing down a name.”

“What? But if he doesn't die in thirteen days, then... Oh, you want Misa to come to headquarters so I can see L's name and kill him?”

Light shook his head, frowning. “No, if he died after you saw his face, I might as well tell the task force that you're the second Kira. Rem wants to protect you more than anything, so if Ryuzaki doesn't write another name before his time is up, she'll kill him—and our alibis will be perfect.”

“Sounds like you've got it all worked out, Light!” Ryuk spoke between bites of apples, laughing loudly.

“As long as he doesn't write in it again, it'll be a perfect victory,” Light said, leaning back in the small chair. “But there's a chance he will, just to test whether a piece of the Death Note has the same powers as the whole notebook. If he can prove that Kira could write on hidden pieces of the Death Note's paper, that would make the case against us look a lot worse, even with the fake rule. And even if he doesn't write in it again, we still have to make it for the rest of the thirteen days. We have to be cautious, and prepared for anything that could happen. Just because they can't consider either of suspects for being the first and second Kiras as long as they believe the fake rule, that doesn't mean you can get careless now.”

“If we need to be careful—does that mean I should stop punishing the criminals?”

“No, that would be too obvious... This is the first time we've talked alone since criminals have started dying again, so L would know right away that I'd told you to stop.” Light took a moment to think, folding his arms. “If anything changes too drastically now that he knows I've seen you, it'll just draw attention to us. For now... keep up punishing criminals the same as before. In a few days, start to slow down the pace a little at a time, but don't stop completely. Keep writing down at least a few names every day.”

If Ryuzaki did have any plans of using the Death Note again, with how the task force reacted the first time, he was bound not to do it if he didn't have Kira's killings as cover. Of course... it would be worse if he did write again, since that would buy the investigation more time with L at the helm, but Light was sure he intended to do it—and he couldn't stop himself being curious what would happen.

And it would be too conspicuous for Misa to stop killing altogether now.

“You should probably start killing some criminals from before Higuchi's death, too... and when you do punish the criminals on the news, don't do it right away. Remember their names and do it throughout the day. Even though you aren't under surveillance now, we should take the same precautions. Don't leave any pages from the Death Note here, either. At first I thought it would be fine as long as no one could catch you with the notebook itself—”

But L was more willing to get his hands dirty than Light could have planned for in advance.

“—but, while I don't think L could manage to have your apartment searched without evidence, if he does find out that pages are enough, it would be damning if anyone did find them here. Keep them on you at all times, especially when you're out of the house. Understood?”

“Understood!” Misa saluted him like he was her commanding officer—though her gleeful smile and chirpy voice ruined anything soldier-like about her demeanor. “So, what should we do now, Light? This is still a date, isn't it?”

“Actually,” Light stood up, stretching his arms behind his head. “I should probably get back to headquarters. I've already been gone for a pretty long time.”

“What?! Hey, Light, you said yourself this is the first time we've been alone together in a long time!” Misa jumped up from the edge of her bed, grabbing him by the arm. “I'm your girlfriend, so shouldn't you spend some time with me? You're always at headquarters, and I can't even call you. All work and no play makes Light a dull boy, you know...”

_And there it is. I thought that was going a little too well._

“Look, Misa-chan...” That earned a snort from Ryuk. Light hoped she didn't realize he was reusing old tricks—though he doubted he could just shut her up with a kiss again. “Once we've won and L's been eliminated, we'll be able to see each other all the time, but for now, I have to know what's going on with the investigation. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. What if they found something while I wasn't there?”

“Oh, Light...”

_Women are so easy to please._

“—And I need to keep an eye on Ryuzaki, too. If he does use the Death Note again, I want to be the first person to know. Understand?”

Misa nodded, still a little put off compared to before—but Light could live with that as long as she wasn't _complaining_.

“You can come see me in the lobby again tomorrow, Misa.” Once she'd let go of his arm, Light turned to leave. “See you, Ryuk. Keep an eye out for anyone following Misa, understand?”

“You better buy me more apples for that, Light. —See ya.”

“Hey, Light?”

Misa's voice stopped him mid step, and he turned back to face her.

“What, Misa?”

“You know, back when people first started talking about 'L vs. Kira'... A lot of people thought L and Kira were the same person, or that they were really working together,” Misa said, uncharacteristically serious. “If Ryuzaki's used the Death Note already, and you think he's going to write in it again—doesn't that mean he's not really that different from Kira, anyway?”

Light blinked, surprised, and paused for a moment to think.

The moment he took to give it thought was a moment longer than he wanted to admit he'd needed to think about the idea.

“Some of the task force already feel that way,” he said, smirking to himself as he turned his back on her and started towards the door again. “But L is always going to be Kira's enemy. We'd be deluding ourselves if we let ourselves think he could ever be an _ally_.”

He spared one last glance at Misa over his shoulder on his way out.

“And L needs to be eliminated no matter what.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Take a look at this, Ryuzaki.”

“Hm?”

Three days had passed both faster and slower, somehow, than Light had expected. Ryuzaki seemed intent on making sure no one thought about him rather than the investigation, rebuking any attempt at talking to him about his impending demise, even when he was unusually—but rather understandably—distracted himself. Misa, true to her word, gave them nothing to work with, and Ryuzaki clearly had no interest in the drudgery of trying to proceed with investigation that provided no evidence of any interest, or _anything_ other than a steadily growing stack of dead bodies.

He'd started disappearing down the hallway throughout the day, sometimes for more than an hour—something neither of Light's two remaining fellow task force members seemed too pleased with. Matsuda had been the one who had the guts, or the lapse in respect, to ask what he was up to.

“I have certain affairs to set in order,” Ryuzaki had said, and that had been the only acknowledgment he'd given the topic of what would happen after his death since that first discussion of it.

Matsuda and Soichiro seemed to respect that, at least, but Light could see that they were uneasy every time Ryuzaki left the room.

“Look. It looks like Kira's changing his pattern,” Light said as Ryuzaki rolled his chair up to him to look over his shoulder, plate of mille-feuille in one hand and his fork still in his mouth. “In the last six days, Kira's killed between fifteen and eighteen criminals every day. All of them criminals reported after Higuchi's death, like Kira was showing off the fact that he had another notebook.”

He could feel Rem staring daggers from where she stood, silent and foreboding.

“Only twelve criminals' deaths were reported since yesterday, and two of them...” Light pulled up the relevant files, glancing to his father and Matsuda to check that he had their attention as well. “...were a death row inmate and a prisoner serving a life sentence, whose arrests were reported two and five years ago, respectively.”

Light could have sworn the temperature dropped ten degrees the moment he finished speaking. Rem wasn't the only one with a dour expression, then—but the other two sets of 'daggers' weren't directed at Light.

“Watari will assure you that I haven't retrieved the notebook since it was left to him for safekeeping,” Ryuzaki said, after a moment. He frowned and forked another bite of mille-feuille into his mouth. “And, of course, you can check the pages yourselves. You won't find those names in that notebook.”

_And what about the page you're hiding, L? I know you have one somewhere._

If Matsuda or Soichiro had at all considered the possibility that Ryuzaki might have done so, though, neither of them showed it—which Light could take as proof that they hadn't made the same connections. They'd have nothing to gain from hiding their suspicions now, since if they knew, it would undoubtedly be Soichiro's goal, at least, to make sure L didn't write down another name.

In all technicalities, that much was Light's goal as well, but to be too active now would make his investment in events too obvious. It was time to keep on defending—he hadn't needed to attack when Ryuzaki had done it for him.

And he didn't want to miss the _show_.

“Of course, Ryuzaki... I apologize. We're wasting time being distrustful of you, when we need to be focusing on Kira.” Soichiro bowed his head in apology. Matsuda did the same. Ryuzaki barely spared them a glance before focusing on his mille-feuille again.

“I suppose it's understandable,” he said, stabbing his fork into the cake rather vigorously. “But... as you've decided to continue to work with me, and time is not something we have all that much of, let's focus on the task at hand. Kira is behaving differently. There may be a clue in that.”

“But why would he start doing things differently all of a sudden?” Matsuda asked. “At first it looked like he was trying to send a message, but that was...”

“Even without that, this Kira's clearly impulsive, and definitely wants attention,” Light cut in, turning his chair to face the others. “He killed Higuchi, then started killing criminals that were reported on the news afterward. To the public, that wouldn't matter, since they don't know that the previous Kira was captured, but to us, it's proof that there's someone else out there with a notebook. Kira wants us to know that. No, it's more likely that he specifically wants L to know that.”

“I agree that this Kira seems to be trying to challenge me,” Ryuzaki said through a mouthful of cake. “Or to taunt me. 'You might have gotten Higuchi's notebook, but I killed him before you could question him, and now you have to catch me!' ...I think something like that is what Kira's saying. But, Yagami-kun, that doesn't explain why Kira is behaving differently.”

“If he's trying to get L's attention, maybe he's satisfied he has it.” Light shrugged, looking to the files on his monitor again. He made sure his expression was thoughtful—like this was genuine, like he was really profiling some mystery killer rather than watching his own orders pan out exactly as he'd given them. “But there's another possibility, and considering the circumstances... I think it's a lot more likely.”

Ryuzaki immediately looked to Light, something knowing in his eyes, but Soichiro and Matsuda seemed a step behind. _No problems there. Better to say it out loud, anyway_.

“Kosuke Gōto's death was reported on the news along with the rest of Kira's victims. Considering that attention seems to be what this Kira wants most... if I were him, I'd be paying close attention to any media coverage, particularly to try and find any kind of clue as to what L was up to. To almost anyone, one more person dying of a heart attack wouldn't look like anything other than another murder by Kira, but to the current Kira,” Light said, crossing his arms, “a death like that that he didn't cause would mean there's someone else with a notebook out there.”

“Right, no one would ever expect that a detective would be responsible for something like that!” Matsuda caught his own over-eagerness quickly, immediately dialing it back. “...So Kira probably thinks there's got to be a third notebook.”

“Kira did kill Higuchi, but he wasn't there to see what became of his notebook. He might think that someone got to it before we did,” Soichiro added.

Light smiled inside his mind, but his expression didn't change from one of intent listening.

“Whether this Kira thinks it's Higuchi's notebook or a third notebook, he has reason to believe there's a notebook out there that isn't the police's hands.” Ryuzaki stared up at Light, inscrutable.

“That's right. For all intents and purposes, he thinks there's another _Kira_ out there.” _Doesn't that mean he's not all that different from Kira?,_ Misa had asked. Light hadn't thought _much_ of that, but he had to wonder what L would make of the comparison now. “And if he thinks there's another Kira, he might think he's looking at a potential ally. It's probably _his_ attention he wants now, rather than L's—because Kira would never guess the two are one and the same.”

“Impressive, Yagami-kun,” Ryuzaki said quietly. “That Kira is imitating the circumstances of Kosuke Gōto's death in an attempt at catching the eye of his killer... seems like a very probable theory. I'm glad to see that your deductive abilities are as good as ever.”

He paused, looking Light in the eyes for a second before looking away.

“Especially as you'll likely be taking over as L soon.”

Save for the low, steady hum of the computers running, the room fell dead silent. Light blinked once, twice—even opened his mouth to speak and closed it again before he actually found his words.

_What are you planning, L?_

“Ryuzaki,” he finally said, taking a slow breath. “Do you really think you're going to accomplish anything by using the same trick on me twice? Be serious.”

“Well, I'll admit it did cross my mind that I should gauge your reaction, but as things are... This isn't a trick, Yagami-kun.” _Oh, like hell it's not_. Ryuzaki dragged his fork across his empty plate, drawing a grid in the remaining cream filling of the mille-feuille. “This time, talking about my death isn't a hypothetical situation, but something that's close to guaranteed—and someone will have to succeed me as L. In the event that the thirteen day rule is proven to be true, we'll have to consider your innocence a certainty, and in that situation, Yagami-kun is unarguably the best person to be my successor.”

Speechless, Light merely stared at Ryuzaki as he continued.

“I've already spoken to Watari. He's been making arrangements so that the transition will be as seamless as possible. The three of you will all have access to his services, but to Yagami-kun in particular... he will be your liaison when you need to interact with members of the public as L, just as he has been for me.”

_Is he kidding? This is ridiculous. It's like he's trying to make this easy for me—no, he has to have something planned. This has to be a trap. But if I seem like I'm too doubtful of his intentions, that's just going to make me look suspicious..._

“To tell you the truth, Ryuzaki, I don't really like thinking about what's going to happen after you die. These past few days, you've been trying to act like everything's the same as always, so I was doing the same... I thought it would just distract from the investigation if we dwelled on it.” How emotional to behave was always a balancing act, walking a tightrope between too cold and too blatantly phony. Light walked the line carefully, pausing like he had to collect himself when he thought it appropriate. “But I realize that we can't just ignore what's going on, and I'm sorry I got defensive—as if things were just the same as before. I'm honored you think highly enough of me that you think I could succeed you as L, and if you think the investigation needs me... I'll do it, and I'll see Kira hang for his crimes. I don't know if I can do things the same way you always have, but I can swear to you that I won't lose against him.”

“Thank you.”

Ryuzaki had a way of saying that without sounding even the slightest bit grateful.

* * *

Watari intercepted Light on his way up from his obligatory rendezvous with Misa in the lobby, stepping into the elevator with him and pressing a button several floors below the investigation's main hub. Watari was always a bit of an unusual figure around headquarters; he was rarely seen unless Ryuzaki called him for something, usually only communicating briefly over the monitors from wherever his office was located. When he did make an appearance, he tended to come and go in a comparative instant, a flicker—in and out silently with little more than a bow to his apparent employer.

Light had never been alone with him, and he suspected that no one else on the task force had been either.

Before now, at least.

The old man stood wordless until the elevator came to a halt on the floor he'd selected. He turned to Light, then, looked up at him with his lined face as calmly blank as ever.

“Please come with me.”

Unsure what else to do, Light followed, the elevator doors shutting behind him as his and Watari's footsteps beat out a dissonant rhythm on the tile floor of the hallway.

Watari's office, located at the end of a considerable maze of hallways, was smaller than Light's bedroom had been at home, but seemed to contain most of what technology there was in headquarters. Blinking lights lit the dim room from every side, a near absurd amount of monitors set up over the desk in its center. With just a quick glance around, Light could see every active camera's feed taking up some of them, the controls for the security system on others, charts and files on others...

Everything in the building could be controlled from here. _And now, he has the Death Note somewhere, too. At least it's the most likely that it's in this room, so there's not even a chance anyone could get to it without talking to him..._

“Would you like to sit down?”

Watari gestured to the single chair, and Light shook his head.

“I'm alright standing, thank you.” This presumably wasn't going to be too long a conversation, anyway, since time _was_ in short supply and the others were bound to question why Light had disappeared after leaving Misa in the lobby soon enough.

“Of course. I won't be keeping you away from your work for very long,” Watari said, as if he'd read Light's mind, standing by the side of the chair with one hand rested on its back. “There are simply a few things we need to discuss.”

He took a long, appraising look at Light before he continued.

“Forgive my bluntness, Yagami-san, but Ryuzaki does not trust you.” Light wasn't sure how to respond to that, and apparently Watari didn't expect him to, as he barely waited before he kept speaking. “He does not trust you and he never has. In his mind, you remain the prime suspect in this case, but he's asked you to succeed him nonetheless. What do you make of that, Yagami-san?”

_That he's planning something._

“I don't know.”

“Ryuzaki doesn't trust you, Yagami-san, but he respects you.” Watari glanced upwards at one of the monitors and Light followed his eyes. He was looking at the feed from the cameras in the main room, where Matsuda and Soichiro were looking over a stack of papers. Ryuzaki, conspicuously, was absent. “More than Matsuda-san or your father, or even myself. I'm sure it's struck you that he can be—difficult when it comes to considering points of view that aren't his own.”

_That's an understatement._

“I have noticed that,” Light said politely instead, lips pulled into a thin smile. He didn't doubt Watari knew it was disingenuous, but he didn't care one way or another. He could tell the old man was getting to something, and he was more interested in knowing what it was than in pretending he wasn't intimately aware of L's tendency to be a _stubborn bastard_.

“You've been something of an exception to that rule, Yagami-san.”

“—He _agrees_ with me, sometimes.”

“And on occasion, he even listens to you.” A shadow of _something_ passed over the old man's face, and he turned away from Light under guise of looking at the monitors again. “I can't help but wonder if you could have... no, I suppose it isn't worth thinking about.”

 _Is he trying to say I should have stopped him from using the notebook?_ Even if Light had wanted to, there wasn't any way he could have. Not without using it himself, which would be suicidal one way or another. If Ryuzaki had forced that, Light might have had to have handed it to him, but instead he'd given him such an easy out.

“If he listens to me, it's not when he's already set his mind to something.”

“Ryuzaki has gone a very long time without having his judgment questioned,” Watari said apologetically, pausing for a moment before finally sitting down himself, folding his hands. “Such is what comes from being L. Even my place is solely to support L... though on occasion it is necessary for someone to stop him from doing things in an unnecessarily troublesome way.”

_Like not letting him hide to die like a stray cat._

“Why are you telling me this?”

“In a matter of just over a week, it will be you to whom I'll be offering my support, Yagami-san. Such is what Ryuzaki has decided—that when he passes away, you will become L.” There was an unmistakable sadness in the old man's voice, and his eyes drifted up to the monitors again. Light thought he could see a minute tremble in his hands. “No, perhaps more than that... whether or not you believe Ryuzaki would ever truly cede to your opinion, Yagami-san, he allows you to question him. In that, you're unique. It's too late to change what's already been done, but I ask that you _do_ question him.”

“I'm not sure I know what you mean,” said Light, after a pause.

“To put it bluntly, Ryuzaki tends to believe that if he thinks something is the correct course of action, it must be so. Though Ryuzaki is willing to make any sacrifice to put an end to this case, he also possesses the 'fear of death' that's natural to human beings. He used the killer notebook. That much is already set and can't be undone, but I believe that doing so might have set him on a path that he must be swayed from at the first available opportunity, lest he stray too far from justice by never doubting his own instincts. Do you understand, Yagami-san?”

_He thinks the same thing I do. That L will use the notebook again to save his own skin._

_Doesn't that mean he's really not that different from Kira?_

_No._

“He gave you the notebook to avoid exactly that, didn't he?” Light asked, deliberately leading. Curious.

“I don't underestimate Ryuzaki's resourcefulness. Nor should you.” Watari's expression never changed as he spoke, always void of the emotions that crept into his voice. “All I ask is that you try to hold him back, Yagami-san. He won't do that himself, and my influence only goes so far.”

 _He won't do that himself._ He'd never had the sense L had any idea of where to stop. Apparently he'd been right.

Light bowed, his face hidden enough by the gesture that he could chance a small smirk. “Understood.”

“Thank you.”

Ryuzaki was still absent when Light finally returned, at least ten minutes going by before he finally emerged from the elevator Light had come up in before him.

He climbed into his seat, something oddly relaxed about him, like his every movement was just the slightest bit looser than it had been before.

“I had to have a word with Watari about some things,” Ryuzaki announced, answering the unspoken of the task force around him. His eyes met Light's when he turned to him; they broke the eye contact at precisely the same moment.

Light brought his computer to life, in every way appearing to be fully focused on getting back to work.

He wondered if, in that moment of eye contact, L had realized Light _knew_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watari never addresses Light directly in the manga, as far as I could find, so I was left guessing as to how he'd address him. I went with "Yagami-san." I may return to this and edit it upon finding another source (as I believe Watari addresses Light in the first DS game, which I'm playing.)


	7. Chapter 7

If there was any question as to what L had done when Light was unknowingly disproving his alibi, it was initially completely gone from Light's mind in a matter of days, when what could have been coincidence or another of Ryuzaki's unpredictable moods became, more and more clearly, deliberate avoidance.

Ryuzaki was, quite successfully, doing everything he could to avoid ever being in a room alone with Light, undoubtedly not wanting to give him the chance to confront him without having to resort to some attempt at _public shaming_. It wasn't as if the idea of forcing him to admit his transgressions in front of the already so dwindled task force wasn't a little appealing to Light, if only for the fact that that would probably have his father and Matsuda at the ends of their ropes as well—but there was a limit to how much Light himself should theoretically be willing to tolerate, and if he seemed too intent to stick around it'd start to raise questions.

Not to mention there was the ever-present possibility that L would disappear into hiding with the Death Note, as Light had worried initially, if he lost the rest of his task force. There would be few benefits to staying in this specific location alone, and plenty of risk in investigating from a place whose location was known by close to half a dozen people who were no longer loyal to him.

Pushing things too quickly was dangerous. Light knew he had to quell the first stirrings of impatience every time he felt them, that now more than ever he had to pull back and avoid unnecessary risk. He would watch L bury himself, deeper and deeper with every passing day. Without proof one way or another of the thirteen day rule's validity, they'd still have no grounds to suspect Light, at the very least, and even if Misa were to screw up, as was certainly possible the more time L bought for himself, Rem would step in to save her.

There was no sense in losing his composure now when his victory was still guaranteed.

Or so it seemed. The days were stiflingly uneventful; if Misa was one thing it was obedient and as her killings slowed to a crawl, just like Light had ordered, it left each twenty-four hours feeling longer than the ones prior. Like the slow decay of L's remaining life, in the minds of the others, had a half life of its own. The closer the end came, the longer the wait. Light bore the waiting with the knowledge that they were standing, precarious, over an inevitable drop. If L had written another name, he would tell the task force before the thirteenth day came—that seemed like the most obvious of facts. That he had written it, equally obvious. Light was convinced. Light did not waver.

Until he did.

A distinct melancholy settled over headquarters as day thirteen drew nearer, like the silence that fills the air around a funeral altar. Matsuda and Soichiro spoke in whispers when they thought no one paid them any mind, nothing but hushed voices and concerned looks on drawn faces. L still drifted around the building and disappeared from the task force's sight for long intervals, reluctant, or perhaps unmotivated, to stay at his desk for more than half an hour at a time. Light both appreciated and began to resent the lack of the handcuffs; he had no desire to be dragged around the building while L sulked, but were they still tethered, it would give the detective no chance to avoid a one-on-one confrontation.

“Will I die of a heart attack when time runs out, or is the cause of death something different?” L asked aloud one day, eyes fixed downwards into his untouched cup of coffee. Rem, unfailingly present in the corner of the room, slowly shrugged her shoulders. Her expression was as blank as ever.

“Who knows? I've never seen a human die from not writing in the notebook.” Light's gaze darkened, slightly, and he momentarily met her eyes - a warning. _Watch what you say._

Rem, whether she took the hint or not, continued, though Light could see in his peripheral vision that she was looking at him, not L.

“Anyone who wouldn't write another human's name in order to stay alive would probably take their own life out of guilt, rather than wait around to die.”

“I see,” said L, quietly rising from his seat and shuffling towards the elevator. Light turned to watch his receding back. L's shoulders were hunched like he was shrinking into himself, becoming smaller, smaller. He looked very young like that, Light thought. That ease of movement, that relaxation that had made him so certain L had thought himself untangled from his fate had disappeared in the time since, and Light, despite everything, found himself unable to clear his mind of doubt.

If he could just talk to Rem alone, he could settle everything, but there wasn't a single room in headquarters without surveillance, save for the bedroom he and L had once shared, and even if they weren't listened in on, just the act of going off alone with the Shinigami would immediately look suspicious. He couldn't ask her to leave the building with him for the same reason, and he couldn't talk to her in front of the rest of the team. What she'd said about anyone who couldn't kill another person not being able to last the thirteen days implied she knew something, but an implication wasn't enough for Light to move forward. No, with even the _possibility_ that L had truly gone without writing another name, if Light was going to assume he'd have to assume the worst.

_The worst?_

_When did L dying as soon as was possible become the worst case scenario? No, that should be the best case scenario._

But either way. Best case. Worst case. It didn't matter. If L had done it, he'd have to act. If he hadn't, he'd be dead soon enough. All Light had to do was be cautious, take things slowly. If he tried to force things, or if he let himself get too careless trying to get more information, it could end up being his downfall. He couldn't get antsy.

He tried to work off his nervousness by pretending to be fully invested in the case, and made it through the twelfth day and the beginning of the thirteenth on five cups of coffee and nothing else. He felt faint, but that, at least, was distracting. That no one was paying enough attention to Light to question it came as no surprise.

It started to rain on day thirteen, when it was getting late in the evening and Light had sat down to finally indulge in the takeout Matsuda had gone out to get. He was very careful to make sure he didn't eat like he was starving, matching his pace to his father's and Matsuda's perfectly.

When Matsuda, despite surely knowing it was futile, looked up to ask Ryuzaki if he wanted anything, it was just in time for the detective to retreat into the elevator. Not unusual on its own, but what was unusual, what Light noticed the moment he looked up, was that Rem was following after him. He hadn't heard L ask her to follow him, but he'd been distracted by dinner and the fuss that came along with Matsuda bringing it and hadn't been paying nearly enough attention.

He stood to follow as soon as he'd eaten as much as he cared to, getting as far as the elevator before remembering that he had no idea where L had disappeared to.

Recalling his repeated insistence that he had been going to see Watari, Light pushed the button for the floor that held the security office. That L had been lying once didn't mean he had been every time, and if he had to guess where he'd decide to go in his last few hours, by Watari's side didn't seem like an _unlikely_ place to find him. At least.

His key card couldn't unlock Watari's office, but the little light of the lock blinked green at Light's first knock. He opened the door, let himself in—and L wasn't there.

Watari, alone in the office, turned in his chair.

“Yagami-san.” The old man seemed utterly unsurprised to see him, and Light found himself grateful for the fact that he'd likely only minimally need to explain himself.

“I'm looking for Ryuzaki,” Light said, and Watari gave an understanding nod. “He didn't come down here?”

“He's gone up to the roof.” Watari looked to his monitors, pointing to one camera feed showing a small, rather claustrophobic stairwell off a larger one. “More specifically, the last place I saw him on the cameras was here, which only opens to the roof. Take the elevator to the highest floor and take the stairs the rest of the way, Yagami-san. Your key should open all the doors without trouble.”

“Thank you.”

Light turned to leave, nearly out the door before Watari spoke again.

“Yagami-san, please get him to come inside,” he said, unmistakably sad. Light turned to look—Watari was looking down, hands folded in his lap. “With the weather today, if he stays out in the rain for too long, he's bound to catch a cold.”

Light paused, unsure what to say. Some part of him was _moved,_ he supposed, by what was so clearly the sorrow of a grieving parent, grandparent, guardian—whatever, exactly, Watari was. He hadn't slipped so far that he couldn't yet still picture his father sitting there instead, sitting there soaking in the knowledge that Light himself was approaching the end of his life...

But his pity when it came to L was minimal by necessity.

“We can't have that,” Watari added, and Light nodded.

“I'll bring him inside,” he assured him, and left to find his way to the roof.

It took a while to find the right way up, the layout of the building rather impractically difficult to navigate to anyone other than, presumably, L and Watari themselves. Light hoped that he might pass by Rem on the way, through some happy accident, and have at least a second alone with her to exchange a word or two without inciting suspicion. No such luck. By the time he reached the final door, he was still yet to see her.

L was alone on the roof when Light opened the door, standing there looking a little like a stray cat out in the rain, already soaked from head to toe. Light watched him for a moment from under the overhang, shielded from the rain himself. It was difficult to see him, with the rain and the darkness both, but Light could make out his figure well enough.

_Rem must have gone back already, then. Damn._

L's back was to Light, his head turned upwards towards the sky as the rain poured down upon him, and he seemed to have his hands in his pockets. He made for a rather sad looking sight that way—less like a regular stray cat caught in the rain, Light thought, and more like a _drowned_ one.

“What are you doing out here, Ryuzaki?” Light called out to him, and L turned, head cocked to one side. He raised one hand to his ear, the other staying in his pocket, and mouthed what Light thought might have been “what did you say?”

Light cupped his hand around his mouth and tried again, louder this time, “What are you doing out here, Ryuzaki?”

L shook his head and gestured to his ear again. Light sighed, braced himself, and walked out into the downpour.

“What are you doing, Ryuzaki?” he asked for the third time once he was by the detective's side, already getting cold in the somewhat brisk November night. L stared at him from under wet black hair that hung down over his face, not saying a word. Light sighed again, finding in himself the _long-suffering but well-meaning friend,_ and put on a mask of concern. “You're soaked, you must be freezing. Come inside. Come on.”

“It won't be for a few more hours,” L said quietly, looking up at the overcast sky. “Just after three in the morning, tonight. That would be thirteen full days since I wrote that name. Can I ask you a favor, Light-kun?”

“Of course.” If for no other reason than because Light was curious what that favor would be, at a time like this... And more so because he would never be expected to say anything but yes. He might have finally gotten him alone, but he could wait to let L say whatever he needed to say before he tried to breach the subject of writing another name... He'd have to.

“I'd like you to be there, then. You, your father, Matsuda-san. All three of you. No matter what happens, don't avert your eyes when that hour comes.” There was a sudden intensity to L's voice, and in his eyes when his gaze met Light's. He put one hand on Light's shoulder, the other never leaving the pocket of his jeans. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, but—” Light began, but L cut him off in an instant.

“Can you promise me that?”

“Yes.” Light removed L's hand from his shoulder, holding his gaze for a moment before L turned away, walking towards the edge of the roof. Light followed him, staying a few paces back from the other man's rather precarious position.

_I could push him. It would look like an accident. Or a suicide. Just like Rem told the task force—anyone who wouldn't take another life would take their own out of guilt. No one would doubt it._

But a “suicide” wouldn't give Light the alibi he was looking for, and it would mean cutting this short when the moment had already almost arrived... it would be a waste.

And something about the idea of standing right there, pushing him, watching him fall—he'd do it if it was the best option, or the only option, but something about that, specifically, came with a touch of _unease_ in a way that the numerous other deaths he'd pictured for L didn't. It wasn't necessary and it wasn't even practical. It didn't matter.

“Ryuzaki—”

“I was hoping the sky would be clear tonight,” L interrupted, looking up at the unmoving clouds, then down over the edge. “But even like this, the city lights are rather beautiful at night. I've never noticed before.”

He turned, then, walking past Light to the door that lead down to the stairwell. Light followed him, relieved to be out of the rain again. His eyes strained a bit to get used to the bright fluorescent lights inside, and he had to squint to see clearly as they descended the narrow stairs. Light tried to start speaking several times, but L didn't respond to any of it. Not until he decided to start talking himself, utterly indifferent to Light's presence.

“It's late for a church to be holding a service,” the detective remarked aimlessly, looking down at his feet.

“What are you talking about, Ryuzaki?”

“The bells,” he said, as if that would explain everything. “I wonder what they were for. A wedding? Or...”

“I didn't hear any bells,” said Light.

L stopped. He stared at Light for what felt like an eternity, and thought he had not even the slightest clue how old the detective was, in that moment, Light thought he looked far older than whatever his age truly was.

And yet, somehow—still with that childish, pitiable look that he'd had on the roof, like some poor sick thing one would want to take inside and keep warm.

“No, I suppose I didn't either,” he said. He was gone surprisingly quickly, then, not bothering to allow Light to match his pace, and as Light returned to his room to change and dry off, he found that his doubt had tipped the scale. Suddenly, that he'd been reading too much into L's behavior the day he thought he'd written another name seemed like the more likely option, that tonight would truly bring L's final hours.

Sat on the edge of his bed drying his hair with a towel, he pictured L's face as he'd asked Light to stay with him in his mind, and wondered what sort of funeral the world's greatest detective would have.

* * *

While Light found himself too tired to keep his eyes focused on his computer screen by midnight, as was typical, the anticipation of what exactly would happen when that critical moment came was far too much to allow him any restful sleep when he headed up to his bedroom for a nap. When his alarm began insistently beeping at ten minutes to three, he couldn't tell if he'd even slept at all. If he had, it had been both dreamless and restless. Still, he got himself up out of bed quickly; there was no time to waste, and a slow start could mean missing everything.

There was an unsettling stillness down in the main room, like stepping into a wax museum. Matsuda and Soichiro sat silent at the coffee table, while L was curled up in his computer chair, staring up at the monitors. They all showed exactly the same thing; a white counter on a black screen, ticking down days, hours, minutes, seconds. Zero days. Zero hours. Twenty-three minutes. Fifty-eight seconds, fifty-seven seconds, fifty-six, fifty-five...

“Watari synced it up to match precisely with the moment I finished writing Kosuke Gōto's name,” L explained, despite having given no acknowledgment that he'd seen or heard Light come down the stairs. “Whatever happens will happen when this timer reaches zero.”

It was only then that he swiveled his chair to face Light at the bottom of the stairs, expression surprisingly soft. “I was starting to think you weren't going to come downstairs in time, Yagami-kun.”

“I promised I'd be here with you,” Light said, and took his usual seat at L's right.

_Maybe for the last time. I hope he doesn't expect me to hold his hand._

“You did,” said L, and then he said no more. He seemed intent to spend those last twenty-three minutes in silence while his three teammates stared at him and each other, though Matsuda at least tried to start up a conversation about the case. Neither Yagami was able to really get into it, and L didn't even bother speaking. With five minutes on the timer, the conversation finally fizzled out into complete silence. Light watched L, wondered what on Earth the man could be thinking. He looked at Rem, tried desperately to read her—to no avail, as always.

He looked to his father, who looked pale and so very tired. He looked to Matsuda, who looked like he was already in mourning.

He looked to the timer as it counted out its last four minutes. They were the longest four minutes of Light Yagami's life.

_Ten seconds._

Light held his breath and turned to look at L.

_Five seconds._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

L met his eyes, and nothing happened.

Light thought he might have felt _his_ heart stop.

_Why is he still alive?_

“Ryuzaki!” Matsuda stood up from his seat with a jolt, approaching L at his chair like he had to see him up close just to make sure he didn't just look alive from a distance. Soichiro stood as well, though kept his space. Their movements may as well have been in slow motion to Light, sluggish and blurry as he tried to keep his composure, to not lose his cool now—

“You're still alive,” he heard himself say. _How? How? How?_

“It appears I am,” L said nonchalantly. Light's eyes flashed to Matsuda, to Soichiro, back to L. _What the hell is going on?_

“So the thirteen day rule was a fake?” Matsuda asked. L dragged his eyes slowly off Light, or maybe it just looked like he did it slowly. Light couldn't tell. He put his hands in his pockets to stop them shaking.

“It's been thirteen days since Kosuke Gōto died, and I'm still alive, so that would be the only possible explanation.” L may have been talking about the damn weather for how uncaring he seemed— _did he know he was going to happen? How? This doesn't make any sense._ “Meaning...”

“Confining Light and Amane was meaningless,” Soichiro said gravely. Light could have screamed. _No, no, no, this can't be happening. How? Just what did that that bastard pull?_

“Yes. More importantly,” L said, looking across the room. “It would mean the Shinigami was manipulated.”

_The Shinigami. Rem. Rem. Did Rem betray me? Did L convince her to when he was alone with her? She must have. If I lose because of her—_

Light turned to Rem as well, anger in his eyes, but desperation, too—trying to communicate with his eyes alone that she had to do something. She looked at him, then at L, and for a single, tense moment, all was silent.

Light could see his life flash before his eyes. Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd wanted, lost because of this idiot Shinigami...

And then she, obligingly, spoke.

“No,” Rem said, her voice booming compared to the quiet anticipation of the moment prior. “The rule is real. I do not care about your _cases_ or your _agendas,_ but the only way to avoid death is by writing another human's name in the Death Note.”

Light's shoulders sagged with relief, unseen while Rem's display captured the attention of the others. He quickly commanded his composure once more, and by the time L cast a glance in his direction, he was sure his expression of rapt interest—touched with the slightest bit of confusion—looked genuine enough.

“Do not try and paint me as a liar to hide that you've committed what you humans call _crimes._ ” Rem quickly met Light's eyes, and for once, he felt he could understand what she was trying to convey perfectly. _That should be enough,_ her eyes said.

_Yes, Rem. That should be more than enough._

“Ryuzaki,” he began after an appropriately long pause, but L had turned his back on what was left of the task force, looking at the monitor. _00d 00h 00m 00s_. Light couldn't see his eyes through the curtain of his bangs.

“Did you write in the notebook again?” Soichiro asked, voice low, almost pained. That quiet _disappointment_ vanished when L ignored him, too, and Light watched as his father grabbed the back of L's chair and swung him around to face him. “ _Look at me,_ Ryuzaki!”

“You can ask Watari, I haven't come to retrieve the notebook.” L turned his head towards Light, not Soichiro, still looking down with eyes hidden.

_Does he expect me to cover for him? How funny._

“Then how...” Matsuda began, voice shaking like he was on the verge of tears. When Light cut in, he imitated that—a tremor in his voice, sorrow and betrayal in his eyes. As things should be. As they would have been if he'd never touched the notebook.

“You tore out a page of it, didn't you?” Light said, and three pairs of eyes were on him in an instant. “You tore a page out and you wrote someone's name on that. On the roof earlier, you had something in your pocket you didn't want to take your hand off of, and a few days ago—once, when you went down the hall, you said you were with Watari, but I was with him that time. You weren't. I didn't want to believe it—”

 _Too much? No, not too much._ L looked a shade paler than usual.

“—but even the day you took the notebook to Watari, you asked Rem if tearing pieces out would damage it. You've wanted to know as long as we've had it whether you could use a piece of it the same way. That's how you're still alive, and you were going to let them believe it was because the rule was fake.”

Perfect in his mask of the hurt friend, Light reached to try and grab whatever was in L's pocket. A sudden flash of rage—and was that _fear?_ —in the detective's eyes, he smacked Light's hand away, only for Soichiro to roughly grab him by the arm.

“Light,” Soichiro said with a nod, and Light turned out the left pocket of L's jeans. Sure enough, he pulled out a folded up page that unmistakably came from the Death Note, slightly wrinkled like it had been wet.

_From the rain. He probably kept his hand in his pocket like that because he didn't want it to get damaged._

“Who was it?” Matsuda choked out. “Of all the people who died since then, who was it you killed?”

Light fought back the urge to smirk as he unfolded the piece of paper. The side of it that had been folded inwards had more writing on it than he'd expected, which only made maintaining his expression harder, but he kept it together, made sure there would be nothing for anyone to see on his face but terror.

_I wonder if this is how Ryuk felt when he first met me. I'm almost proud._

“None of them,” he said, and L looked away again, tugging his arm out of Soichiro's grip.

“Read it, Light.” Light glanced to his father, grim as some creature carved from stone, and nodded.

“Tomohito Shino, hanging. November 10th, 2006. Proceeds to his execution without complications. Tells the person who leads him to the gallows to “go to hell” and spits at their feet before the execution takes place. Dies twelve minutes after the drop.” Matsuda made a strange strangled noise, and Light kept speaking. “Humphrey Kerr, gunshot wound. November 15th, 2006. When offered, requests a slice of strawberry shortcake with his last meal. Proceeds to his execution without complications on the 15th. Does not die during the initial volley and is given a coup de grâce, from which he dies immediately. Jezebel McVicar, cardiac arrest. November 17th, 2006. Requests her execution be filmed and the footage be sent to the person who was responsible for her arrest, but has this request denied. Proceeds to her execution without complications. Dies four minutes after the first injection. Kunio Mitsuji—”

“How many are there?” Matsuda was definitely close to crying out of anger now, as much as he was clearly trying to hide it. Light looked to him with a well-put-on grimace.

“Just this one,” he said, and with a lingering look at L, who still wouldn't look at him, he read off the last name. “Kunio Mitsuji, suicide. Hangs himself in his cell at the latest possible opportunity before his scheduled execution.”

“I had to know if it was possible,” L murmured, barely audible. “I had to know the constraints of the killer notebook fully to be able to—”

“To be able to _what?_ ” Soichiro looked angrier than Light could ever remember seeing him, and he nearly recoiled on pure instinct. “This is murder, Ryuzaki!”

“They were death row inmates. I guaranteed their executions took place when they were supposed to, with some minor adjustments to confirm the notebook was working. They would have died at the same time either way.” L's expression was unchanging, inscrutable. “I'm equally a murderer by doing that as their executioners would be for doing their jobs. These are all criminals I've caught. Heinous ones. You wouldn't even know Jezebel McVicar by name, and even after her death, I can't tell you what she was responsible for.”

“That's no excuse, Ryuzaki! You wrote their names into the notebook with the intention of killing them,” Soichiro shouted, but L was entirely unmoved. “That's murder, whether they were death row inmates or innocent people. And what about Kunio Mitsuji? You wrote his cause of death as suicide.”

“I had to know if it would be possible. Don't you see how crucial this information is to the case? I know that missing pieces function the same as the notebook. That drastically affects how we have to assess what circumstances Kira would have been able to kill in. I have direct experience as to the notebook's ability to manipulate time of death and people's actions before their death, and the possible causes of death. Yes, Kunio Mitsuji hung himself—so perhaps _he,_ and he alone, died a few _hours_ earlier than he might have naturally if I'd let him be hung in the gallows instead—but as he brutally murdered twelve kindergarten girls, I won't be losing very much sleep over that. This would have had to have been tested either way.”

Light found himself, suddenly and acutely, reminded of the fake message from “Kira” L had recorded from his script, months ago now. That same cold authority. A shiver ran down his spine.

“If that was all it was, you would have told us,” Matsuda said, and Light thought he looked dangerously close to reaching for his gun. “But you were going to let us think you'd proven the rule was fake.”

“It _is_ fake,” L insisted, but Matsuda was shaking his head. “We needed to be able to move forward understanding that. It was the only way you would see—”

“You're the one who won't see. Why can't you just admit you're wrong about me?!” Forget just being an actor, Light thought he could win an award as _Best Actor_ for his expressions now alone. He wanted to smile, to laugh, _desperately_ , but he didn't let his act break for a second. No, Matsuda and his father would see him so hurt, so sorrowful. They'd never think it was an act. “I know I was your prime suspect for a long time, and even I believed, for a while, that I could have been Kira—but there's more than enough evidence now to prove I _couldn't_ have been. You can't just write this off as being fake because you don't want to believe you were wrong! You'd rather try and solve the case by _framing_ me than by going after the actual killer?”

“Framing you? No, that's not the right way to put it... There was too much potential for foul play here, so I had to be prepared. You would have lost your _alibi_ whether I died or not. The outcome would have been the same. The rule _is_ fake.”

Light hadn't noticed his father move to his side, but a steady hand on his shoulder interrupted him composing his next retort.

“Light, let's go. It's over,” Soichiro said, eyes fixed on Ryuzaki with distinct disgust. “Ryuzaki, I cannot keep working with you under these conditions. I'm taking my son home, and we won't be returning.”

“I was about to tell you to do exactly that.” L turned in his chair again, facing away from them. “Please don't. The same for you, Matsuda-san. You won't be let in. You won't be able to reach me through any of the usual ways. Clearly _our differences of opinion_ are too great for this to continue. My previous statements about involving the police still apply, I'm sure you understand.”

Sobered, Soichiro lead Light towards the elevator, Matsuda walking along with them. Light cast a glance at L over his shoulder and so gladly cast an unseen smirk at the detective's back before he forced himself to put on a somber face once more, turning his eyes forward.

The elevator door opened a moment before they reached it. Light first noticed the unmistakable black notebook—then that it was Watari's hands it was in as he stepped out to meet them.

“Chief Yagami,” he said, bowing his head respectfully and holding the Death Note out. Light yearned to reach for it, but held himself back. “Considering the circumstances, I thought that you might prefer to take this for safekeeping.”

“Just what do you think you're doing, Watari?” L snapped from his desk. He went ignored.

“I'm sure we can trust that you won't be tempted to use it,” Watari continued, and Soichiro gave a solemn nod, taking the notebook and gripping it tight to his chest.

With the notebook locked in his father's briefcase in the car on the way out of headquarters, Light sat still the slightest bit  _dazed_ in the passenger seat questioning what his next course of action would be. He realized no one, least of all his father, would think it strange that Rem was following them rather than staying with L, and he smiled to no one but his reflection in the window.

The lights of headquarters slowly disappeared behind them as they drove into the night. Light watched Rem's pale figure flying beside the car, the city lights L had called beautiful blurring behind her. He did not sleep.

 


End file.
